


take my love in real small doses

by majesdane



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, Coitus Interruptus, Dirty Talk, F/F, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quiet Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/pseuds/majesdane
Summary: Scylla's not very good at following orders.| Set during S2. Raelle and Scylla have made up, but Willa keeps getting in the way.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 121
Collections: MFSRI Winter Solstice Fic Exchange 2020





	take my love in real small doses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vuvalinis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vuvalinis/gifts).



let this pleasure be / a penance. i will suffer it again.  
— traci brimhal, "dear eros"

* * *

"Raelle," Scylla says, sitting up. "Raelle, come here."

Raelle, slouched in an old, plush armchair, looks up from Anacostia's field notes in her lap. It doesn't usually take much to distract Raelle, but she's especially susceptible when she's bored. And Scylla's been watching her eyes glaze over for the last fifteen minutes, as she sluggishly flips through photocopies of Anacostia's tiny spiral-bound notepad.

It's admirable how diligent Raelle is trying to be, but the Camarilla aren't going to be stopped in a single afternoon or with a solitary mission — Scylla should know. She's been laser-focused on how to prepare for the coming war since Willa first informed her of the intel leaked from Fort Salem. 

Or, well, she _was_ laser-focused until she collided with Raelle again. Metaphorically and literally. It took some time for the frost between them to thaw, but when it had —

She remembers the electric spark between them, when their hands brushed. The way Raelle stared at her with those summer blue eyes, her face so full of hope and longing. Scylla couldn't help herself: she leaned forward. Their mouths met somewhere in the middle; their bodies pressed together. Raelle's hands in her hair, Scylla cupping Raelle's face. The way they tumbled into Scylla's bed. 

It still makes Scylla feel warm all over when Raelle catches her eye and smiles. Her smile is brighter than the sun. Her kisses are just as soft and sweet as before. When Raelle reaches for her hand, threading their fingers together, Scylla can't help but wonder if this is all just a dream. Raelle still loves her. Raelle _chose_ her, even after everything that happened. 

Raelle is _hers_. 

There's just one thing missing.

Namely: sex.

Outside of their heated tryst two weeks ago when they finally gave into the persistent gravitational _tug_ between them, they haven't done anything but just kiss. And kissing is fine; better than fine, really. But now that they've made up — not entirely, but mostly — Scylla wants Raelle back properly. _Entirely_. She wants Raelle in her bed every night. She wants Raelle beneath her, flushed and panting, muscles straining. Scylla wants Raelle lying between her thighs, tongue lapping insistently.

Back at Fort Salem, they had endless amounts of privacy. But everything's different now — including that. For the time being, Scylla's still stuck at the Spree safehouse under Willa's watchful eye. And though Willa may have grudgingly accepted Scylla's relationship with her daughter, she's clearly still not pleased with it. Scylla's positive that Willa goes out of her way to purposefully make sure their time together is limited.

Not today, though.

Today they've been left alone. 

And Scylla intends to make the most of it.

"You know, I really _am_ trying to be a good soldier," Raelle sighs as she crawls onto the bed, her mouth meeting Scylla's with a light kiss. She's adopted an air of exasperation, but the self-satisfied grin gives her true intentions away. "It's just so _hard_ to concentrate when I've got such a gorgeous girl asking me to come join her in bed."

Scylla laughs and knits her fingers into the front of Raelle's shirt, pulling her in closer. It's not long before their kisses turn more eager, heated, Raelle's tongue slipping into Scylla's mouth. Raelle tastes like coffee and smells like pine; it's sweet and familiar.

Raelle and the others always sport civilian clothes on their trips to the Spree hideouts, stowing their military uniforms and weapons in nondescript backpacks or satchels. Scylla noticed Raelle's proclivity for flannel button-down shirts right away; she likes it. She's spent many evenings now (and before) imagining popping open those buttons one by one by one.

Which is exactly what she's doing right now, pleased at the low, encouraging hum the action produces. She holds Raelle's gaze the whole time, until the shirt is hanging loosely on Raelle's thin frame. Scylla eases it off gently, taking a moment to pepper Raelle's bare shoulders with light kisses before tugging off her own shirt and tossing it aside.

Raelle's fingers skate along the soft, exposed skin of Scylla's stomach before darting up further, skirting teasingly along the edge of Scylla's bra. They've slept together so many times, but when Raelle touches her like this, it still sends Scylla's heart racing with that same heady excitement as the first time. And it all feels especially _more_ potent after their months apart. 

"Everyone's still out," Scylla says, shifting them both so that Raelle's lying back against the pillows and Scylla's straddling her waist. 

"Good." Raelle grins, kissing the space just below Scylla's ear.

Everything's perfect: Raelle's kissing her like they have all the time in the world, her hands gripping Scylla's hips firmly. The heat in Scylla's belly has been stoked from a gentle flame into a roaring fire. She grinds against Raelle, torn between needing relief and wanting to draw this out as long as possible. Who knows when they'll have a chance to be intimate again?

Raelle's breath comes in short, hot pants against Scylla's neck as she works to open Scylla's pants. "Missed you so much, Scyl," she mumbles, kissing the dip at the base of Scylla's throat. "Need you so bad."

Scylla groans as Raelle's hand slides into her jeans, stroking her haphazardly. The angle is awful, but Goddess, it feels good to be touched. She's so wet; she can feel it when she shifts, rocking against Raelle's hand. 

She needs _more_ though. She —

The sound of the front door slamming open jerks Scylla straight out of her lust-filled haze.

(Oh, Goddess _damn_ it.)

She can hear the trudge of boots downstairs and brief snatches of conversation. Beneath her, Raelle is frozen, eyes almost comically wide, her hand still between Scylla's legs.

"We should — " she starts, keeping her voice low.

Scylla's already gently extracting Raelle's hand, climbing off the bed and reaching for her shirt. "Probably a good idea."

She tries to be casual, despite burning with frustration and annoyance. The universe is diametrically opposed to her plans to get laid, apparently. She pulls on her shirt with a sigh, studying her reflection in the small mirror tacked up on the wall beside the bedroom door. Her face isn't _too_ flushed, at least. She combs her fingers through her hair in an attempt to make it look at least halfway presentable.

Her jeans suddenly feel a bit too tight; the ache between her legs has not lessened in the slightest, and she's uncomfortably wet. She sighs again, turning to face Raelle, who's unfortunately wearing a shirt once more. 

"I'm gonna head down," Raelle tells her, scooping the papers off the armchair where she left them. "See what they found out during the recon mission."

She strides across the room and kisses Scylla by the door, cradling Scylla's face with one hand. "Sorry," she mutters, looking bashful. "Raincheck?"

"Sure." Scylla's biting back the urge to make some snide remark about Willa. She pushes playfully at Raelle's shoulders. " _Go._ " Another quick kiss. "I'll be there in a minute."

*

Scylla's barely even stepped off onto the landing at the bottom of the stairs when she's grabbed by the elbow and tugged onto the front porch, out of earshot of everyone else in the living room. 

It's Willa, looking cross. She _sounds_ cross, too, when she folds her arms and says, "I can't leave you two alone for a second, can I?"

Of course that's what she's mad about.

Since the moment Scylla arrived back at the Spree safehouse following her escape from Fort Salem, Willa has made her disapproval of Scylla and Raelle's relationship abundantly clear. As far as Scylla's concerned, Willa should be _pleased_ that Scylla was willing to risk everything for her daughter. Especially since that was the reason she was captured and thrown into Alder's charmingly medieval prison in the first place.

Scylla would have thought her loyalty towards Raelle's safekeeping would have been enough to win Willa over. 

But, perhaps, that was exactly why Willa _wasn't_ won over. For the first time since they'd met, Scylla prioritized her own feelings over the Spree. What's more, she'd prioritized something — someone — _else_ over the Spree. Willa had ordered Scylla to bring Raelle to her; Scylla had done everything _but_ that.

And Willa certainly does _not_ like being disobeyed. 

"Willa," Scylla chirps in a saccharine tone, clasping her hands behind her back. "I thought you weren't supposed to be back for _hours_."

Willa frowns, her gaze cold and level. Scylla can practically _feel_ the aggravation rolling off her. 

She knows she's perfectly safe; Willa wouldn't dare hurt her. Not _seriously_ , anyway. Willa's relationship with Raelle is still precarious, and they both know Willa won't do anything to jeopardize it.

But, keeping Scylla and Raelle apart? That's a viable option that Willa's already made good use of several times already. And, Scylla thinks, in many ways that's much worse. She'd rather Willa just windstrike her across the room and be done with it. At least then Raelle could come to her rescue and put those lovely Fixer hands —

"Let me remind you: your mission was to bring Raelle to me," Willa snaps, dragging Scylla out of her thoughts. "It was _not_ to seduce her. _Not_ to fall in love with her." She steps in closer to Scylla, lowering her voice. "I've forgiven you your mistakes for the sake of the cause and my daughter's heart. But what I will not tolerate is you flaunting your disobedience in my face."

Scylla resists the urge to blurt out a snarky comment, keeping her expression placid. 

"There are more important issues at hand here than you two playing house," Willa continues. She glowers at Scylla, staring her down. "I suggest you don't forget it."

Scylla stares back. "Yes, ma'am," she finally forces out. Her tone is light. Deferential. She plasters on a fake, appeasing smile. "I promise I'll do my best. No more distractions."

(If the corners of her mouth quirk up into the _tiniest_ hint of a grin, well.

She can't help that.)

*

The thing is, Scylla's not very good at following orders.

Especially when those orders involve her staying away from Raelle.

It's for this reason she finds herself softly padding down the hall to the bedroom at the top of the stairs. She's grateful she's spent enough time in this house to be able to avoid all the creaking floorboards. Normally she'd just sing a silencing Seed to avoid any risk, but she doesn't trust Willa to have not put some kind of anti-Work system in place. Willa's distrustful and cautious on any given day, but more so any evening that Raelle and any others spend the night at the safehouse.

Scylla doesn't fault her for that. But it does make her current mission — sneaking into Raelle's bedroom and finishing what they started hours ago — a little more difficult.

But she's never been one to back down from a challenge, _especially_ not when her skin's been buzzing all evening and she's felt close to bursting every time Raelle's so much as met her gaze. She's certain Raelle must be as wound up as her; during their halcyon days at Fort Salem, Raelle was insatiable. Scylla still remembers quite vividly their first evening together, when Raelle slammed her up against the wall and made Scylla come shockingly fast. They hadn't slept a bit that night, but in the morning Raelle was perkier than ever, all charged up.

"Scyl?" Raelle mumbles as Scylla slips into bed beside her, after taking care to lock the bedroom door. "What're you doing?"

"Missed you," Scylla tells her, looping her arm around Raelle's waist and drawing her in for a long, languid kiss. "Couldn't stop thinking about you, in fact."

Raelle grins, the fog of sleep clearing from her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Mmmhmm."

Scylla slides her hand inward, the tips of her fingers easing their way just slightly up under the hem of Raelle's t-shirt. Raelle shivers at the touch, shifting in a little closer. Scylla allows her hand to snake up further: up the flat plane of Raelle's abdomen, all the way up to a breast, the nipple already hard and alert. Scylla thumbs it, feeling a fresh spark of arousal pierce through her at the way Raelle pushes ever so slightly into the touch with a tiny groan, eyes closed.

"Scyl," Raelle says huskily. "We can't."

She sucks in a breath as Scylla's thumb strokes her again. 

" _Scyl_. My mom — "

Scylla kisses her. "Well," she drawls against Raelle's ear, her fingers trailing back down the length of Raelle's body and coming to rest at the elastic waistband of Raelle's briefs. "If you _really_ don't want to . . . " She trails a line of kisses along Raelle's jaw. Her fingers dip teasingly below the elastic waistband, producing another tiny groan from Raelle. "I suppose I'll have no choice but to go back to my own bed. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to pick up where we left off?"

She flashes a grin at Raelle. 

The bright pink flush that blooms on Raelle's cheeks is positively adorable. Scylla's heart swells even as she suppresses a laugh, kissing Raelle's shoulder. 

"I-I don't know," Raelle says, sounding uncharacteristically shy. 

"Come on," Scylla purrs sweetly. She takes Raelle's hands in her own, bringing them up to her breasts, sighing as Raelle squeezes gently, reflexively. "It's alright; we just have to be quiet."

Her breath hitches as Raelle, growing more confident, thumbs Scylla's hard nipples through the thin material of her t-shirt. Scylla groans, tipping her head back, rocking her hips forward. She's so wet already, still so embarrassingly turned on from the events of that afternoon. 

Raelle pauses after a moment, but it's only to slide her hands up under Scylla's shirt. Her fingers feel like tiny flames licking against Scylla's skin. Scylla groans as Raelle inches Scylla's shirt up, but not off, before bowing her head to kiss the swell of Scylla's breast. Her tongue slides down to swirl teasingly around one of Scylla's nipples before taking it into her mouth, her free hand pressed against the small of Scylla's back, pulling her in closer.

And it's nice — it's really nice — and any other time, Scylla would love to take things nice and slow; she could do this for hours. But now's not the time; she's far too worked up for that. She pulls away, shifting so that she can push Raelle back down onto the bed with a hungry kiss. Raelle whimpers into the kiss as Scylla brings her knee up between Raelle's legs, shifting and pressing. 

Raelle's underwear is damp; Scylla can feel it against her bare skin. It sends another heady pulse of _want_ through her. 

She moves her mouth away to follow Raelle's jawline with a trail of kisses. She licks along the curve of Raelle's neck as Raelle's fingers thread through her hair, gripping the back of her head. Scylla can't help but grin; she loves the feeling of Raelle squirming needily beneath her. Raelle's panting, rocking her hips up to grind against Scylla's knee.

And _Goddess_ , Scylla would like to take Raelle right then and there. But she _also_ wants to tease Raelle just a little more. She nips at a spot on Raelle's neck before soothing it with a kiss, bringing her free hand up to Raelle's breast, toying with the nipple.

"Scylla," Raelle whines quietly after a few more long moments, and Scylla knows Raelle's getting impatient.

Scylla shushes her. "Quiet now," she murmurs. 

She shifts a second time, once again straddling Raelle, whose hands creep up Scylla's thighs like ivy. Scylla catches one of them, guiding it between her legs. Her hips jerk forward as Raelle's fingers slide against her.

"How often did you think about doing this to me?" Scylla pants, feeling suddenly emboldened as Raelle finds her clit, fingers moving in slow, tight circles.

"What?" Raelle's breathless. 

Scylla leans forward, propping herself up with one hand, mouth hovering less than an inch away from Raelle's. "All that time we were apart," she murmurs against Raelle's mouth, pushing into Raelle's hand. "I know you thought about touching me like this again." She grins, kissing Raelle lightly. "I know I did. Thought about your hands on me. Your _tongue_ on me — "

Her breath catches as Raelle's touch grows harder, more insistent. She's so close to coming; she knows Raelle knows, too. 

She doesn't really _want_ Raelle to stop what she's doing with her fingers, but she _also_ really wants Raelle to play along. So she grips Raelle's wrist tightly and draws it away from between her legs, pinning it down against the bed. She leans in and kisses Raelle, rough and hard. 

"If you're not going to _tell_ me what you thought about," Scylla says, against Raelle's mouth, "you should at least _show_ me. Show me what you did to yourself when you were all alone in your bed at Fort Salem. The way you touched yourself, thinking about me."

To her credit, Raelle doesn't even hesitate.

The uncertainty, the shyness — or, perhaps, embarrassment — that was holding her back seems to have dissipated by now. She grips the back of Scylla's neck, pulling her in for another heady kiss, before murmuring a stern _off_.

Scylla quickly obliges, shifting away and sliding down beside Raelle. She props herself up on an elbow, watching as Raelle eagerly pushes her hand inside her underpants. Scylla's mouth goes dry as Raelle licks her lips, eyes fluttering closed as she begins to touch herself. The fabric of her underwear flexes and stretches with the movements of her hand; Scylla stares, entranced, feeling herself growing even wetter at the sight.

"I wonder, how often did you think of me?" Scylla presses in closer, her mouth against Raelle's ear. "How many nights did you fall asleep to the thought of me on my knees? You always did prefer me in that position." She drags her tongue along the shell of Raelle's ear, eliciting a shudder.

Raelle moans. "Always," she confesses breathlessly, her eyes closed tight, brow knitted in concentration. "You were the only — could never be anyone else. The first time I saw you again — wanted to kiss you so bad. Wanted to touch you. I was so furious. But I wanted you still."

Oh. It's better than Scylla could have even imagined, hearing Raelle be so unabashedly truthful. 

She doesn't even need to _see_ everything to enjoy the show; it's amazing, watching Raelle like this, so completely open and exposed. Scylla moves in close, dotting kisses along Raelle's shoulder encouragingly. She watches for a little while, loving the way she can see and feel Raelle's body tensing beside her as she edges closer to orgasm.

But Scylla's not quite ready for Raelle to come yet though; once again, her fingers circle Raelle's wrist, gripping it tightly. 

"Wait."

Raelle whimpers in protest, but does as she's told, withdrawing her hand with a slight jerk of her hips. Scylla grins, pulling Raelle's hand up to her mouth and slowly licking her fingers clean, one by one. It's well worth the groan it prompts from Raelle.

"Scylla."

Scylla slides down to kiss her, once, before rolling off to the side. "Clothes. Off. Now."

She's already hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her own underwear, sliding it off and kicking it to the floor. Raelle obliges again, shedding her own remaining clothes. Scylla pulls the duvet back up so they can scramble under the covers, hot skin against hot skin.

Raelle giggles as Scylla's toes brush against her calf and she pulls Scylla towards her, kissing her firmly on the mouth. She rolls them over until she's on top, Scylla grinning up at her.

"I thought about doing this a lot too," Raelle says, with a smirk, as she kisses her way down Scylla's stomach, gently pushing Scylla's thighs apart. She hooks one of Scylla's legs over her shoulder, tongue sliding down the length of Scylla's thigh.

When her tongue finds Scylla's clit, licking tentatively, Scylla jerks up with a barely suppressed cry.

"Raelle!" 

She's not very good at keeping quiet; despite her bravado, she really hopes Willa isn't a light sleeper. 

Brushing the thought aside, Scylla tangles her fingers in Raelle's hair, urging her on. 

She's so close already, hovering on the cusp of orgasm. She closes her eyes, conjures up the mental image of Raelle getting herself off, straining against her own fingers — and that, coupled with the steady, flat press of Raelle's tongue against her — is enough to send Scylla tumbling over the edge. She bites down on the inside of her mouth to stifle her cry, shuddering, her blood pounding in her ears, her heel digging into the slope of Raelle's back.

Raelle takes her time coming back up, pressing lazy kisses on the inside of Scylla's thighs. She drags her tongue around the underside of Scylla's breast, circles a nipple, sucking lightly.

"Come here," Scylla says finally, frustrated, and cups Raelle's face in her hands, kissing her. It's a sloppy kiss — all tongues and no finesse — and when Scylla pushes her knee up between Raelle's legs, she shudders again, feeling how wet Raelle still is.

"Just so you know, that's a lot better than what I imagined," Raelle says, and Scylla laughs, burying her face against the crook of Raelle's neck. Raelle kisses the side of her head, through her hair.

They kiss languidly for a while, until Scylla's caught her breath and her heart has stopped beating quite so fast. Scylla loves the feeling on Raelle on top of her, their bodies pressed flush together, all skin on skin. When Raelle shifts a moment later, seemingly to roll away, Scylla's hands slide down to Raelle's ass, squeezing purposefully.

"Hold on there, soldier," she says coyly. Her fingers slide down then in, easing their way between Raelle's thighs and stroking lightly. "We're not quite finished yet."

"Y-yeah," Raelle agrees, eyes closed, lips parted slightly. "Yes, ma'am."

"So compliant." Scylla moves them both until Raelle is flat on her back, Scylla beside her, propping herself up on one elbow, her free hand between Raelle's legs, fingers drifting teasingly up and down her thighs. 

When Scylla finally pushes a finger slowly inside Raelle, Raelle groans, arching up eagerly. Scylla smiles, planting a kiss to the side of Raelle's mouth. "Easy there," she mumbles, withdrawing slowly before thrusting back in, this time adding in a second finger. She presses her thumb neatly against Raelle's clit, loving the way Raelle pushes back into her touch.

"Scylla," Raelle sighs, gripping Scylla's shoulder. "Oh. Please."

Scylla quickens her pace, bowing her head and sucking on a spot on Raelle's neck. It'll leave a mark, she knows, but she doesn't care — she doesn't think Raelle will care either. There's a hungry, animalistic part of her that loves to brand Raelle as hers. It sends a new flame of desire licking low across her belly, thinking about it.

Beneath her, Raelle's breathing has grown short and labored, her hips straining against Scylla's fingers. Scylla pulls back just a little, watching her. Raelle looks so beautiful, a light blush creeping up between her breasts, neck, spreading across her cheeks. Scylla moves in to kiss her; it's frantic, needy.

"Come on," Scylla purrs, her mouth against Raelle's ear. She draws her tongue lightly along the curve of it. "Come on."

It doesn't take much more than that; a few moments later Raelle comes, hard, digging her nails hard into Scylla's forearm, crying out. Scylla keeps her fingers moving, helps Raelle ride out her orgasm the rest of the way, only stopping when Raelle gently tugs Scylla's hand away.

"God, I missed that," Raelle says blissfully. She shifts in close, kissing Scylla lazily. "Two weeks is _far_ too long to go without touching you."

Scylla laughs, bumping their noses together. "Glad I snuck in, then?"

"Very much so." Raelle nestles against Scylla's shoulder, voice already thick with sleep. "Love you."

"You too, Raelle."

She doesn't mean to fall asleep — she _means_ to sneak back to her own room, to avoid Willa's inevitable wrath the next morning.

But the best laid plans . . . it's just so nice, being curled up in bed with Raelle, delightfully charged up and _finally_ sated. It's warm and soft in this bed, with Raelle beside her, and for a moment she forgets that she's in the Spree safehouse; she's back at Fort Salem, the two of them crammed into that tiny twin bed, exhausted and sore, the room flooded with silver moonlight.

She kisses the top of Raelle's head, strokes Raelle's cheek. Raelle stirs slightly, nuzzling in closer.

Damn Willa and her orders, Scylla thinks, drowsy with sleep and soft affection. She can't keep them apart forever.

She'll gladly suffer the consequences for disobeying her.

Tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to [99bad_habits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/99bad_habits/) for looking this over.


End file.
